It's a Small Galaxy After All
by Ryntha
Summary: The Doctor talks with Romana for the first time in years. starring Novel!EightDoctor and Novel!Romana 3


Title: It's a Small Galaxy After All  
Rating: G  
Characters: The Eighth Doctor, Romana III

Disclaimer: Nothing related to Doctor Who belongs to me.  
Warnings: None, except it's long and boring and not very well written. Not much but dialogue. You might not understand their relationship unless you've previously seen them in novels. In short, this is the sort of fic only a few people bother to read.  
Summary: The Doctor talks with Romana for the first time in years.  
Other: Written for a rather random fic competition, which is why there is a globe of no significance in the story except for the fact that it was one of the rules. I've only read one novel with interaction between the Eighth Doctor and Romana III before. I have never written for either of them. Go easy on me. )

There was nothing interesting about the room they were in. It was small, but wide windows on either side were open behind fine white curtains, leaving a breeze to blow through and remove all thought of claustrophobia. The walls were the dull brown of wood, with a few portraits hung up of previous Gallifreyan presidents, names hung below them that he'd long ago memorised in the stuffy classes of the Academy. There was a single desk, with a few objects scattered on top of the neatly arranged papers, completing the entire feel of the room: a basic, impersonal office, and all that made it a place to pay interest to was the simple fact that the President resided here for most of her waking life, running all that was to be known as Timelord.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

Her voice was clipped, abrupt, sharp and cutting, not so much a similarity to her second incarnation, but more so her first. It was a voice to be disliked, he thought briefly to himself, and it had sliced through the silence cleanly, as if it were exactly the thing to do so and nothing else was meant to have done so. That was probably true, as he had had no intention of breaking the silence first. This was her office. Her domain. No - the whole of Gallifrey was now.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again, either."

"Then why did you come here, Doctor? Directly coming to me, and you talk as if you hadn't suspected it! Even you had some comprehension of your own actions before you played them out, when I knew you. But of course, that was a long time ago. Your eighth incarnation, is it now?"

"How was I to know you had made yourself President, Romana? Do you honestly expect me to have been following the news of Gallifrey all this time?!"

His voice had risen, in fustration - at her, at himself for having stumbled into this, at Fate for tricking him willingly, or whatever counted as Fate. He listened to the rapid double-beat of his hearts in his ears before he calmed down, drifted about the room in his usual manner whilst she sat elegantly in an armchair, gaze that he would not meet fixed upon him. He passed by her desk, stopped, a slender hand trailing over the wood before he picked up the crystal sphere resting in the nook between two piles of paper. It felt heavy in his hand, but light shone through it easily and as he brushed his thumb over the smooth surface he felt the fragility of the object beneath his skin.

"I know you may not be fond of the Council, or indeed Gallifrey in general, but - did you not even try?"

"Try what?"

"You know perfectly well. Did you not try to find me again, throughout all those years since we parted?"

The object in his hand was presumably a globe, though he was unsure which planet the vague shapes printed on it were meant to represent. It fitted into his palm easily. He tilted his head up, blue eyes making her out in the corner of his field of vision. "Did you expect me to?"

Ah, there was a question that took her by surprise. He could tell, in the sudden flicker of her eyes and the brief falter in the rigid shields she had put up around her mind that she had purposefully strengthened over the years so much that it was an annoying blaze from across the room to him. The seconds ticked by slowly, and he mused for a moment at the apparent speed of time depending on the mood of the observer, before she parted her lips once more but an answer to his simple question was not forthcoming.

"What was the reason so important that you needed to see the Lady President, Doctor? I presume you didn't come here on a spontaneous decision of the moment?"

He pushed some of the papers back, sat down carefully on the edge of the desk, continued to keep up a play of being intently interested in the globe in his hands. "If you must know, I was a friend of your predecessor. We had made an appointment to have a talk over a nice cup of tea together, but when I came back for that cup of tea I ended up months too late. I didn't think he would mind at the time."

"He resigned several weeks ago."

"Yes, I figured that out for myself when I saw you."

"We can arrange a cup of tea for you, if you still wish to have one." Ridiculously formal, he thought to himself, setting the globe back in its original place amongst the masses of informative text.

"No, no, I think I'd better leave." The pocket-watch he had retrieved out of his pocket was still ticking away, showing a time inaccurate to this planet's orbit, but it was well suited to the purpose of observing the passing of time and that was all he needed at present. It was simple, existing regardless of whether it was of any use to anyone or not and it would continue to exist until it was no longer capable. In a way, it was similar to him; almost a constant, something to be taken for granted, seeming to have no end as it did not acknowledge such an end in advance. Appearing to be a constant force in the universe, and yet neither him or the watch had quite reached that point, nor would they ever do. A brief length in time in which they would be included in the calculations of the galaxy, and then their inevitable end would come as natural. No one would notice him slipping away. He would make sure of that. "There'll be people waiting for me."

"New companions of yours, Doctor? Having the same adventures I once did?" She inclined her head.

"You made the decision to stop those adventures, Romana. I didn't make that decision for you."

A chuckle escaped her lips, soft, ladylike and polite, yet somehow just as biting as each word she had uttered. "Of course. You may go now, Doctor."

He straightened up, dusting unseen dust off his waistcoat and tucking the fingers of his right hand into a pocket to drop the watch in his grip, the feeling of the weight of the mechanism a reassurance a moment later. The papers he had sat amongst were now satisfyingly out of order, and the only thing remaining to do was to walk to the door and open it. Doorknob in hand he took a final glance around the room, and knew he would not miss the small and constraining room and the cold look on the face of his old friend. She was still seated upon that chair, never letting her almost regal act slip, and for the first time since they had spoken he found himself concerned at the lack of warmth in the small smile on her lips.

"We will meet again." He spoke it as if it were a reassurance to himself, but they both knew that he was not the person he was trying to reassure.

"I know."

He smiled at her, a last, final acknowledgement that what was between them was not hostility, and a twist of his hand and a few steps later he was gone, out of her life until she needed him or he needed her or they happened to meet by chance, and there was a high possibility that that would not happen until a good deal of time had passed, enough to satisfy him. The Doctor; late, early, but never on time. Appointments made with him were better off not existing.

She leant back in the chair, crossed her legs and sighed, a smile still playing on her lips. "It's a small galaxy after all."


End file.
